Skip to main content

Frame Six

 The first line of the poem Frame Six by Cheswayo Mphansa, lingered with me for days. 

"These days I wake in the used light of someone’s spent life."

There are degrees of sadness and despair in those words for me. It brought back memories of time thankfully long past where these words could have been exactly what I sought to describe what I was living through. I wrote about my nights in a cold attic many years ago. If I had the words Mphansa does, I would have expressed it more memorably and without wasting any. His poem reminded of a blog by young person describing the wisdom of having lived thirty years. Lot of good insights there but the last line is the best - the days are long but the decades are short. This gets truer the longer you live I think. 

Just like that the 20s and 30s are over and if you had not been spending those long days thinking about the larger purpose of your life, suddenly you are left with far less intangible resources than you once had. I spent my 20s waging wars that I felt were worth fighting at the time - not concerned as much about what I would have to show for it at the end of my life. The wars were won to my satisfaction and I was also worn out. In hindsight that energy could have been diverted to much better end and by when that epiphany occurred I was no longer the person I was in my 20s - I did not have any of that fight left in me. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques